Bad Lover, Good Lover

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I had sold a run-down house to Cory Tomas a few years ago. He is about forty-five, is a local truck driver, has a big beer belly, is a good poker player and seems to be a good father to his pre-teen kids when they stay with him every other weekend. Of course I also know his financial situation, but other than those things, I only know that he always seems to have a reasonably pretty, shy woman with him. Each one would stay a few months and then there would be a new one. One day he told me about the free Texas Hold’em tournaments at one of our local bars. I’m no great gambler; most of the thirty to forty locals who played each week were not any better than me. We were there to eat, drink and boost the slowest night of the week for the bar. It was something to do and the “free” poker only cost about $40 per night.

All that would be uneventful, except for Allison, Cory’s winter conquest. Allison at five-one was not model material. In her usual jeans and baggy sweat shirt you probably wouldn’t even give her a second glance. For over a month, she watched the play and was very quiet. Little by little she opened up, smiled and kidded some with me. Often she and Cory did not leave the bar on the best of terms. He would drink too much, say derogatory things about women and be sharp with her. One evening he reached over and rubbed her breasts in front of everyone and too loudly said to his conversation partner, “Well besides cooking and cleaning, there is one thing they are good for.”

She was the designated driver. Her face turned red, her jaws tightened and she left. I drove the drunken man home. His only intelligible comment was, “The bitch better remember that she is easily replaced. This is embarrassing to me. Thanks for the ride home.”

Over the next few weeks Allison began to play poker. On her third night, she made it to the final table and took out a couple of the better players before being eliminated in fifth place. The week after that, I was holding pocket queens when trip sixes turned up on the flop on the first hand. I was quickly all in and lost to pocket aces. I was the joke of the minute and offered a dunce hat for being the first out of the evening’s play. Allison soon joined me at the bar. She had lost with two pairs to trips. We had a long time to talk; Cory was on his game and made it another hour to third place in round one.

Allison was a delight to talk with and tease. The more she moved the more I realized her body was tight, curvy and sexy. She seemed to enjoy my company also, touching my shoulders and making a lot of lingering eye contact.

When Cory joined us, his words were, “You two have been talking for a long time. Jerry are you trying to get into her pants?”

“Just enjoying her delightful conversation. Besides she has you, why would she be interested in an old fart like me? Who took you out?”

“Dallas got me with a straight on the river.”

—————————-

My week was the pits. The building inspector came on Tuesday to sign off on some framing on a new addition I was building. He was usually a good guy but today he was an ass. I had worked over the weekend and Monday to be ready for him; now he demanded I rework a balloon framed gable end on the second story that was part of a cathedral ceiling in a master bath. My way was stronger and tighter than his but he had the power not to sign-off on my work. I spent all day Wednesday ripping out my work. That night I was not in the best of moods. Over early dinner, I complained to everyone who would listen.

Allison and I both drew threes for our table selection. She sat down next to me on my left side. I was still fuming and stupidly folded a bad hand where I was the big blind and no one had raised. I could have seen a “free” flop. Allison folded after the flop and I felt her hand on my thigh. She leaned toward me and said, “Relax, have fun, you know you will be back on schedule in a few days.”

I sat for a moment enjoying her touch. When I felt her start to move her hand, I caught it with mine and whispered back, “You are right. Your hand there feels so good that it is making everything right.” I was being sexually playful and had no idea if this would offend her. Cory was one table away. Her hand stayed where it was. Both of mine were visible above the table. As the hand ended and the table was active with the deal moving, Allison’s hand moved up my thigh a few inches. My legs opened a little.

There was not much I could do with a three and a six un-suited so I mucked my hand. My cock was twisted in my work jeans but filled out the best it could. Allison played with only her left hand. She glanced at her cards, said “call,” covered and pushed her chips in. As she leaned forward her hand pulled back and rested on my cock. When the flop was turned, she squeezed and held my shaft. Her hand squeezed again on the turn. She didn’t need the river and went “all in.” The pot was of good size because there were four players. When she rolled her two fives they matched two more that had been exposed in the esenyurt escort flop. Her thumb went up and down my helmet twice before she needed both hands to rake in the pot and collect the two “all-in” chips she had also just won.

The rest of the night was uneventful, none of us made the final table. Cory was reliving his bad beat with someone who was buying him an unneeded beer.

“Allison, I’ll be working two doors down from your house in two weeks. I know how you like to see remodels. Stop by and I’ll show you the plans and what we are ripping out.”

“I would like that. I’ll bring you a glass of tea.”

“I liked what you did tonight. I have always enjoyed your company; now I find I enjoy your touch. Too bad I can’t return the tease.”

“Your reputation is more oral.”

“Where could you possibly have heard such a thing?”

“Seems you got carried away at the club house Super Bowl party.”

“That was a silly situation. Some guys were talking about not liking to give oral sex. My buddy made some comment about me taking up the slack for all of male-kind. The one girl at the table was a 420 friendly, high, hot twenty-year old with slightly dirty feet and ripped Daisy Dukes that hid nothing. She held up her toes in front of my face, wiggled them and said, “Prove it, Old Man.” I sucked her toes and challenged her to strip and get on the table. She backed off. That is all that happened.”

“That’s enough.”

“Maybe but all I got to taste were dirty toes.”

Allison fidgeted on the barstool and her neck flushed. Cory had finished his beer, put a hand on my back, leaned between us and said, “Come on Bitch drive me home.” I’m sure that was supposed to be funny.

Allison’s jaws tightened as she watched Cory stagger toward the door. I wanted to get her to think about me as she left, “He’s drunk. I’m not. Relax, you are beautiful, fun and I hope I was not too open with you tonight. I too am playing and teasing. Go take care of your guy. I’ll go home and take care of what I have to take care of; but thanks to you, tonight will be special, I get to fantasize about you while I do it.”

Her eyes sparkled and she smiled. She liked being someone’s fantasy – even an older someone.

——————————-

Cory and Allison missed the next Wednesday poker night. But the Monday after that, it was raining and she showed up with a glass of tea at my newly started project. “I didn’t know if you put sugar in your tea.”

“I do, but it will be sweet enough if you are here. Maybe I’ll have you swirl your finger around in it.”

“You are a naughty flirt.”

“Sorry. But I’m a great contractor. Want the tour? We’re adding a large room and then putting on a partial second floor.”

After the tour, I said, “You and Cory did not play last Wednesday. The two of us especially missed you.”

Allison at first looked puzzled and then turned bright red. She tried to recover, “How did everything work out two weeks ago when you went home.”

“It was a big job; I could have used some help.”

“I give up; you are too fast for me.”

“Geez, I hope not. I hope, I still have some control.”

Allison giggled, shook her head in pity and we talked more seriously for a while.

“Yea, Cory is ready to move on. We spent most of Wednesday night arguing why I should move out and why I am such a controlling bitch.”

“Are you a controlling bitch?”

“I wanted to change some things in the house and shop for some pictures for the walls. I’m not working; Cory is getting fewer hours because of the economy; everything just blew-up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He never stays with any woman very long. I should have expected it. Somehow, I thought it would be different with me.”

“You love him?”

“Strange question. I didn’t look for work while I was with him, like I said I would. Now I have no place to go and he wants me out. It is my own fault. Neither of us, love the other. It has been a convenient relationship.”

I noticed a blue mark on her neck that she had tried to cover with make-up. I nodded toward it and asked, “And that?”

She held her hand over the exact spot. Her eyes teared and she said, “I got angry and said too much, he slapped me. It was my fault.”

“Sweet Cakes, it was not your fault. A woman’s body is not designed to be hit, especially by a man. You do not have the body weight, muscle structure or bone strength to compete in that arena. Cory has a hundred pounds on you. A blow from him could easily maim you or kill you.”

She wasn’t watching through her tears; she spilled some of her tea and it shocked her back from her troubles. She tried to change the subject, “What did you mean when you called me, “Sweet Cakes?”

“That’s the title of a famous old porn movie. You have a very pretty behind. Those are your “Cakes”.”

Allison did not want to play. She was sad. She let the information just roll off.

I gave her and easy out, “I have to get back to istanbul escort work. Do you know where I live?”

“The big rock house across from the park?”

“Yes. If things get rough, call 911, one of the women’s shelters or come over and stay in one of my guest rooms for a couple of nights until you decide what you are going to do. Once you are hit, there is a good chance you will be hit again. I don’t want to visit my pretty new friend in the hospital.”

“I’m not pretty.”

“You are a delight to talk with; your eyes light up any room and when you sit close I cannot stop wondering what your body looks like under those bulky clothes. Why do you dress like that?”

“I lost a lot of possessions when I lost my job, filed bankruptcy and moved a few times. That is when I met Cory. At first he spent some money getting me sweats and things, but that did not last. Especially now that he is not making much, he worries about being laid off. Then he drinks and usually gets mean.”

“My dad was a happy drunk for many years; I remember the day he changed and the alcohol made him mean and he started hitting.”

“I have to get back.”

“Thanks for the tea and your company. Before you leave, answer something for me.”

“If I can.”

“Did you bathe today?”

She looked shocked, “No, do I need to?”

I sat on a five-gallon bucket and said, “Come here.”

Allison tentatively stood tensely with her legs together between my knees. I pushed up her sweat shirt and pressed my face into her belly, inhaled, kissed and put my tongue into her belly button.

Her body tensed. I sucked at her salty skin. My cock instantly responded and I stood facing her. I towered a foot over her.

“Why did you do that?”

“Pheromone test.”

“How did the test turn out?”

I took her hand and pushed it between my legs. I like the size of my cock. It doesn’t hurt anyone but it has pleasantly stretched most of my partners. Her small hand squeezed and she realized her fingers would not touch around it. She ran her hand down its length to my balls.

“I have wondered several times why my heart skips beats when you are near me. I’ve wanted to kiss you even before we talked. I could be next to a thousand beautiful women and not feel that. You passed the pheromone test with flying colors. My mouth is watering.”

Allison looked coy and turned to leave like she said she had to do. I reached out and firmly grasped her arm, “I will not force myself on you, pressure you or hurt you. You have a private, quiet, safe room at my house if you are frightened where you are. You do not have to do anything for me. Understand?”

She nodded and walked home. I went back to work.

Saturday night, I was getting ready to go to, of all things, bowling with my son and grandkids. I had not bowled in twenty years. I was sure my arm would fall off my shoulder and I would have to carry it back home in a plastic bag. The door bell rang. I expected my son, swung the door wide and said, “Why didn’t you just come on ……….” Allison’s left eye was blood red, swollen almost shut and the bruise was already forming. I could clearly see knuckle prints along the edge of her eye socket. Her big sweat shirt was ripped and hanging below her coat and when I reached out to hold her waist and steady her, she moaned in pain.

In Viet Nam I saw a lot of death and gore; I’d killed, even women, but the sight of Allison had tears rolling down my face. I sat her in an overstuffed chair, brought her a glass of wine and called my son to tell him to not pick me up tonight. Allison did not want me to call the cops, women’s services or even take her to the emergency room. She knew they would have to file a report.

When I took her coat off, I also took off the tattered sweat shirt. Her bra was broken. I took it too. She had a cigarette burn below her left breast and another over her left ovary. I was angry but stayed in control and stripped her completely. She did not resist as I continued to strip her. Another fist sized bruise was just above her cleanly shaven pussy and she groaned when I touched her side. I looked questioning at her.

“He kicked me. I think I have a broken rib.”

I still looked puzzled.

“I caused it. He told me to leave and I wouldn’t.”

I had women’s clothing from when my wife died three years ago. I dressed her in warm flannel pajamas that were too big for her, put socks on her and put a pink robe on her that drug the ground. We talked long into the night; she wanted to drink, so I kept the wine coming. She had been abused in every relationship that she had ever been in. To her it was the norm between women and men. Her father had hit her mother, her and her two brothers.

One of my short comings is that I am not very trusting. When Allison was ready for bed, I tucked her into bed, pointed out her in-suite bathroom and armed the motion detector in the hall outside her door before I went to bed.

At six the next morning the beylikdüzü escort inside alarm box beeped by my bedside. I caught up to Allison just outside my front door. “Where are you off to?”

“I need to go get my stuff before Cory heads off to work.” “Is any of it sentimental, like pictures, etc?”

“No just clothes.”

“Forget them. Don’t take the chance. We’ll go shopping and you can get what you need.”

“Why would you do that? What do you want from me?”

“Nothing. I don’t want to see any more bruises on your body. Let’s go make coffee.”

Allison quickly realized that I was not a trusting soul. Maria, my maid, watched her when I was at work. Soon Allison just started going to work with me. She was a natural, always on the other end of the board when I needed her there, unafraid of power tools, learned fast and was always alert. Within a week, I wished I had a dozen like her. My troublesome inspector was back and she followed him around asking questions. He was in heaven. I had to leave to keep from laughing.

“I owe you big time, Allison. Remember how much trouble he caused me a month ago?”

“Buy me a nice Italian dinner and we’ll call it even.”

“OK, but we also need to talk about a salary for you. You are becoming quite a construction worker, as well as, a wonderful interface to the Building Inspection Department.”

She smiled from ear to ear and we decided on a Spaghetti Factory not too far from home.

Allison was radiant; I was tired but smitten for the evening. She ordered the house special lasagna and I ordered the same.

“Why did you order the same thing I did?”

“First, I like the lasagna here and second, I have to have the same amount of garlic in my system as you, should I be lucky enough to get a kiss tonight.”

She was uncomfortable with my teasing and I felt bad immediately.

“I’m sorry Allison, teasing is very natural to me, I enjoy the company of pretty women and teasing seems to heighten the sexual tension, even when the reward is only the lasagna.”

She stayed quiet. Smart lady.

As the salad was served, I talked, “Allison, my workers usually start at twenty an hour without benefits for six months. Then they go to twenty-five with medical. After two years, few can stand me that long, we add retirement benefits in a 401k matching scheme.

She was quiet again, this time in shock. “Are you offering me that to work for you?”

“Yes, did you expect more?”

“That’s twice what I was making without benefits. This job is a lot more fun.”

“You’ve carried your weight on the job and contributed every day. Everyone in the crew has mentioned to me that they worried about having a woman in the construction crew, but now like working with you and trust you. That is a great compliment. Many experienced men, don’t get to that point.”

“If that’s not a sexist remark, thank you.”

“I’m not that smart, I like women but we’re talking business.”

“I live in your house.”

“You’ll be able to afford to move out soon.”

“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

“I know, we’ll clear the air. I’m very attracted to you. I started out to help you get settled and that part is working. The other part complicates things horribly.”

“Horribly?”

“Yes, I don’t need any discrimination or favoritism suits. I admit I want to be closer to you but I know I had better keep you at arm’s length.”

“How about you don’t keep me at arm’s length and I work with you for fun.”

I swallowed hard and she could see the surprise in my eyes.

“Are you so shocked that I enjoy your company too?”

I fidgeted and looked like an idiot, then finally my mouth worked, “I haven’t had wonderful luck with women. Frankly, yes, I’m shocked that you might enjoy my company for just me. I’m lost at this point.”

“Can you dance?”

“Some.”

She led me to the dance floor and was part of me for a long slow dance. I was used to working with men, loving the feel of wood and taking pride in finished houses. Women always saw me as tall, lanky and unhandsome. I am not the movie-star, smooth, experienced, devil-may-care male that most women dreamed about. Even the few lovers that I have had raved about how I satisfied them but they moved on to more exciting “bad boys”.

Allison seemed to fit into the contours of my body. When my legs stepped wide her thigh was there. When I looked down her mouth was slightly open and her eyes were closed. When I thrust my chest out her breasts were there to nestle under it.

I had drunk only half a beer but she had my mind spinning and I was confused. Hell I have a master’s in business, how could this tiny rejected body confuse me? No, worst than that, she scared me.

Only half way through the first dance, I led her back to the table.

“Jerry, did I do something very wrong. I’m sorry. I was enjoying our dance.”

“I felt too much from your body. I want you to work for me. I was attracted to you when we played poker and wanted to help when Cory hurt you. But tonight my head is swimming. You did nothing wrong but I do not know what to say to you.”

“Your body excites me too.”

“Help me. I haven’t had dozens of experiences like Cory. What does that mean?”

“It means I want you to hold me, dance with me, kiss me and see what else happens.”

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